Shameless
by Reona-chan
Summary: I never liked self-inserts. I never did, never would. Though thinking about it, it would be more fun than the hell my life is. However, I stand corrected as I am inserted into a book I only recently read. Oh, bugger. Myles Fowl/OFC/Beckett Fowl
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: **Now, normally, I do not like self-inserts. However, this was much too entertaining to bear.

Secondly, I think the two Fowl twins deserve some love. Mostly, all the (insert canon male here)/OFCs are with Artemis, so, instead, I shall work with Myles and Beckett!

Thirdly, I do not have a name for this character. I shall work on it as I move along.

Fourthly, this character is not the same age as I am. She simply reminds me of me.

Fifthly, I have way too many notes for you guys to read. But, this is the last. I have not read the second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth Artemis Fowl books. The facts may be inaccurate. So, on with the fanfiction!

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Artemis Fowl is just.. not mine.**

&&&&&&

It was three o'clock in the morning and I was thoroughly indulged in reading Artemis Fowl fanfiction on the internet. I was dodging those shameless self-inserts and Mary Sues, however, since they barely satisfied me at all.

I mean, come on, Artemis Fowl was one of the greatest books written in all time, and here people were, ruining its essence with characters that weren't thought through well at all, and with themselves at the Fowl boy's side.

Same story, same story. They meet Artemis, find him as a bastard-like criminal, hate him, cause him to hate them too, and then suddenly, using the clichéd term that opposites attract, they would fall in love; head over heels in love! Then, with a POOF!, the main female character would be snatched by evil fairies, and then as if she hadn't been spending most of her time 'learning genius things' with Artemis, she would have no idea how to solve the problem, and await her knight in shining armor.. er, suit, to save her; as if Artemis had amazing physical abilities and did not need Butler at all!

So instead, I searched for other things.

I had been browsing through for around six hours now, starting from seven in the evening from the night before, and from Domovoi and Artemis pairings to Holly and Juliet, I had reached a dead end.

For, before my eyes, lay one unfortunate result –

-results for Myles, ended up having two fanfictions. As if this wasn't bad enough, results for Beckett had one.

Now, if I had been in the right state of mind, I would have willed up all my courage to write my own Myles or Beckett fanfiction, though being awake at three o'clock in the morning did some things to you. From reading, I had then considered taking a drink, and thus stood from my seat and sauntered over to the kitchen.

Looking through my cabinet, I realized that I would have to go to the grocery soon.

Then again, who would ever have the money to go to the grocery when all you received from your pain-in-the-ass kind of job was _four-thousand_ dollars a month; and screaming from your boss when you used the telephone line to call your friends instead of receiving calls? Funny how ironic life is. They tell you to enjoy your life, to be happy, to feed yourself and work hard for money, when all they'd give you is minimum wage and the occasional slap on the butt from the old perverts who worked with you.

Wow, I never thought of myself as someone who would actually be a witness that actions speak louder than words.

Finally, I found myself some vodka and drank it straight from the bottle.

It went down like battery acid and taste like piss.

Delicious.

In my dark little apartment, you would think that I would be happy and all, trying to brighten it up with smiles and giggles and corny dance music, but I liked it dark. No, I was not a victim of extreme depression or heartbreak or love trouble (hell, I gave up on this a long time ago), but I was just way too caught up in reading fanfiction in my spare time that I could barely care about anything else.

I wrote fanfiction, too, but mostly never really published them since they were barely anything worth being proud of.

_Stop fighting with yourself, _my conscience told me. I took another swig of the vodka, and decided it would taste better with orange juice.

I read in this book once that you had to listen to your heart to be able to find what you wanted most in life.

Well, ha-ha to you believers, I doubt I even _have_ a heart. Sure, I've got one that beats in my chest and helps my blood flow, but I doubt that there's anything in there besides.. cells and muscles.. and other things. I didn't take nursing, you see, or any of those doctor-biology-genius courses. I didn't even go to college.

So, taking out the carton of orange juice, I poured it into a glass and then added the vodka. Swishing the liquid around a little, I toasted; thoroughly smitten with drink, and downed it all.

I took with me another glass of my ingenious little mixture, and went back to my computer, clicking through random fanfiction and giggling a little. I was a light-weight and not afraid to admit it, and got tipsy easily.

Cross the line from tipsy to full-blown drunk, however, and I could barely focus on reading at all!

I laughed, singing to myself and dancing around like a pre-schooler would with a stuffed animal; and squeaked when I fell on my bottom. If my parents would see me now, drunk early in the morning, they would have grounded me on the spot. _It was a good thing I moved!_ I told myself, and attempted to stand, wobbling a little bit on my legs.

Walking over to the computer, I clicked Microsoft Word, and waited for it to load; small giggles escaping my lips as the bar reached the end. I stared, at the blank document, as if the color white mesmerized me and I could barely focus on anything else; and then finally thought about things.

_Maybe those girls wrote about self-inserts and Mary Sues because they were bored of the real world,_ I thought to myself, the silence in the room ironically deafening me and causing me to actually get serious. _Maybe they just can't handle the boredom real life gives you. Maybe they were just doing what made them happy._

A sudden smile appeared on my face, and I looked at the document through clouded, dreary eyes. Pursing my lips, I readied my fingers above the keyboard, thinking about what it was I was to type.

_I want an adventure._ I typed, staring at the words with a dumb grin spread across my face. You would think I looked pretty much stupid like this, but it was explainable – I had never felt so content in a long time.

At that moment, a shudder ripped through me; snapping me out of my reverie, causing my eyes to widen in slight surprise.

I, however, shook the feeling off; leaning my arms on my table and laying my head on it.

_I just hope I don't drool on the keyboard._

And that was the last thought I had in a while.

&&&&&&

My head was pounding, my ears were ringing – AND CHRIST ALMIGHTY WHO WAS SCREAMING IN MY EAR?!

I winced, hoping that I would not be charged for murder for killing whoever it was that wanted to mess with me, before feeling utterly cold water wash me whole.

Opening my eyes, I looked up at what awaited me; ready to choke them, snap their necks, cause their blood to spill on my expensive rug –

- oh my God.

I stared, for a long time, up at the figure that currently loomed over me in a slightly-evil manner.

"Beckett, do fetch me another bucket. It appears like our little intruder has yet to truly wake up," came the cold voice, and I nearly screamed in horror.

Myles Fowl. Giving orders to Beckett Fowl.

Shit! I was in Fowl Manor, wasn't I?

"Okay, okay, I'm awake," I mumbled, but was too late as another bout of freezing water was poured over me. "DAMN! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU, DEAF?!" I shouted, looking up at the Irish boy and frowning, when I saw his mirror image.

It was easy to tell who was who.

Myles, was wearing a suit – what, with the self-centered egotistical little bastard he was, and Beckett was wearing a regular tee shirt and jeans. It was a wonder how I could tell the two apart when I barely even knew them. They weren't given much recognition in the books, either, as far as I could tell.

Myles smirked, and Beckett pointed at him.

"It was his idea!" the younger twin said, nodding vigorously as if he was scared I would break him in two. I would if I could, but I wasn't as strong as Butler. Only in my dreams, I suppose.

Myles waved it off as though it did not matter, snapping his fingers; and sighing. "I believe that now I would have to dispose of you, madame. Butler?" he called, and I winced. Didn't this guy have his own bodyguard? Or did he or she run away trying?

Hands gripped my arms tightly, and I winced, looking up at the shaved man with a small pout.

"_You're not really doing this, are you?" _I asked through my eyes, and he only shook his head. _"I have to,"_ he responded, and I sighed. From complaining about my life, I was going to end my life. Funny how I never got to love life as it was.

I really had to learn how to keep myself out of trouble.

&&&&&&

**Author's Notes: **Two words. Writer's. Block. Yep. I got it again. The quality sucks because of that. But, anyway, hope you enjoyed. I hope I got Myles and Beckett right.. and yes, their bodyguard ran away trying. :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes: **Wow. I actually got some reviews. Thanks, guys. I never knew people would be interested in Myles and Beckett, too. –grins- Mild CSI hints are here, for all you CSI people. Enjoy.

I'd like to thank nabbi and Punkartgurl13 for their.. help. Yeah, I don't live in America. I don't know how to convert dollars to the currency I have where I am. AND THANK YOU, SO VERY MUCH, nABBI (see? I lower-cased the 'n' just the way you like it. xD), FOR THE WRITER'S BLOCK HELP. I'm trying it out, right now. Let's hope it works, and cross our fingers.

**Disclaimer: IT'S NOT MINE. GET OVER IT.**

&&&&&&

_**cookiegurl15: **_lawlz, thanks. I found it terribly difficult to make a good start for this. This is my first time creating a self-insert/first-person OFC FanFiction.

_**nabbi:**_ I've been having writer's block for the past two months. Strange, isn't it, how I come up with things during them? Thank you, though. I'll try out the advice.

_**Punkartgurl13: **_Thank you for clearing that up for me. xD I barely know anything about America, so, yeah. Greatly appreciated. :D YES, I've only read the first and seventh. They are so far the only things I could find in this rotten country of mine. –waves fist lamely- I edited the first chapter's dollar amount just for you. :D It is now at four-thousand seven-hundred. I know it's still a little bit under, but it's good enough, right?

_**ByE ByE RobIn: **_I love you too. Yes, Beckett and Myles are awesome. I love them so much. –grins-

_**With love and with lip-gloss (although I don't wear any),**_

_**Reona-chan**_

&&&&&&

"_And usually, when one is placed in a world unlike any other_

_They would move along and explore._

_But this girl, she would only like to bother_

_The two twin males she would learn to adore."_

_-A Reona-chan Poem-_

&&&&&&

I stared for a good lot of time at the place with which Butler was to put me in.

The prison cell, as some people would call it. The depths of hell; with no way out, no salvation, no food, no water, and worse – no television. But what bothered me most was that I was in the room _Holly_ stayed in. I was ruining the awesomeness that Holly had left behind in her wake, and all because of a prissy, pompous, egotistical bastard, and his brother who had to do whatever he said.

Where was Artemis when you needed him? These damn clichés, it makes me feel hypocritical for one of them to actually appeal to me – no – actually make me hope for it to happen.

I was dropped rather harshly on my bum, and frowned when I realized that I had not changed at all. Of course, one could not expect someone like me to change mentally or emotionally, or psychologically (let me pretend that I know how to spell that), but, for God's sake, I could have at least changed _physically_!

You know how most of those girls in self-inserts or Mary Sues have outrageously appealing body parts, 'shining', 'shimmering' eyes and 'soft, silky, long, wavy' locks? Bugger! It did not happen in real life. Here I was, in a Mary Sue of my own (though I'd hardly call myself one, I'm a little craphead in an equally crappy manor), and I didn't change at all.

My eyes were still the same, _dull_ brown, my hair still frizzy in cold air, and my body still disproportional. For the love of all things sane, I could have at least gained a little more 'up here' and a little less 'down there'. My butt was still huge (though not as huge as the cafeteria ladies you see at the school I used to go to – I think they're going through a race with whom will get the biggest butt sooner), and my breasts were still an A cup. I was a **writer**, for Christ's sake! I should have at least ended up sexier than normal.

"What seems to be the problem here, Butler?"

At the sound of that voice, I would have cheered, would have screamed; would have thrown my arms around the neck of that person and kissed him lovingly for finally arriving. For, before my eyes, I saw the shoes of Artemis Fowl, shined thoroughly; and his pants ironed to perfection. _Yes, yes, yes!_ I told myself, resisting the urge to look happy (although I doubt he would see my face – I was currently looking downward), _He's come to save me! My Mary Sue dreams are coming true!_

My eyes trailed upward, expecting the Fowl boy to be there, smiling, offering his hand; and taking me on this boat trip where we'd kiss in the sunset with the birds squawking above our heads. At least such a horrid beginning would end like it was supposed to. I just hope there wouldn't be a crab there singing about the guy wanting to kiss me so bad. Even though my physical parts were still crappy, at least I'd still have my Mary Sue ending. Right, right?

I finally laid eyes on his face, and he wasn't even looking at me. Let alone smiling.

This was turning out to be one twisted hell of a Mary Sue fanfiction.

"She was found on the steps to the manor, sir. Master Myles and Master Beckett had taken it on their responsibility to wake her up, and due to her destructive-"

I snorted.

"-behavior, they had asked me to take her away," Butler finished, and looked at me with a slight raise of the eyebrows. I only crossed my arms over my (still unimpressive) chest, and turned away with a pout.

"Ah. Well, carry on, then, Butler. I have no use for her, either, should she have a certain distaste for my brothers," Artemis said, waving a hand as though it didn't matter.

Now, now, _hold up_!

Didn't he at least gain **a little** compassion? I mean, come on, in the past few books he changed! _Shit_, I told myself, wincing inwardly,_ I didn't read the books where he changed. Shit, shit, shit. Maybe this universe is based on how much I know about the books.. so Artemis is still a total dickwad who doesn't care about anyone but himself. Great._

_**Sucks for you**__, _my conscience told me.

_Shut up. You're not helping._

_**You shouldn't have spoiled yourself with the endings and plot.**_

_I said shut up, douche._

_**You just insulted yourself.**_

I pushed the voice to the back of my mind, and looked up at Artemis with pleading eyes. I never thought it would have to come to this sort of behavior, though supposed that perhaps it would be the only way he would learn to relent with my request.

"YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME AND LET ME ROT HERE! I-I'M NOT ALL THAT BAD! I CAN CHANGE!"

I hugged his leg, and as though I were a rabid dog about to bite his head off, he shook me away with a slightly disgusted look.

"Change?" he scoffed, "I had given you two other chances before this one, and don't think I'm so stupid as to let you escape this manor again."

_Two _other chances?

This time it was my turn to scoff.

"Listen, I've never even **been** here, Mister I-know-it-all-so-obey-me. You don't have the right to speak to me about such ignorance."

"Indolence."

"Whatever," I waved it off, and stood up, getting in his face.

"Now, listen up, and listen _well_, because I'm not going to repeat this another time."

I would have stopped if Butler intervened, though it seemed like the man did not make a move to do so. As if he were on my side. Silently. I was about to ask why, then remembered that I should be angry.

_Pretend Artemis banished kittens from homes._

I clenched my fists.

_Oh, that little prick._

"I **deserve** another chance! Just because you think I'm someone else who was stupid enough to run away from this manor, doesn't mean you have the right to accuse me without the right evidence!"

Wow. I sounded like one of those CSIs. Grissom, think Grissom.

An image of insects mating crossed my mind.

Ewww.

"So, Mister Fowl, quit judging me because I look like someone you used to know! I'm someone completely different, and I doubt you'd ever-"

"-what's your name?"

I blinked, at the question. So much for me going on a roll, telling him off, and how much of a jerk he was. My name? Would I really tell him – _my name_?

"Er.. Mary."

_**And your last name is Sue! **_exclaimed my conscience, laughing and mocking me. This stupid thing just didn't have an off button, you see.

"Mary?" Artemis rose an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Mary. Mary.. Sanders."

_Let's just hope CSI doesn't exist in this dimension._

"Mm," Artemis mumbled, and turned around, sighing, as though he couldn't bear for actually doing this.

"I will let Myles and Beckett take care of you, Mary. It is they whom you have to plead for being spared. Butler, let's go," and he beckoned with a hand gesture, and the Eurasian man followed, shutting the door after him.

Artemis was bad enough.

And now I had to deal with two _twin_ Fowl boys.

I _really_, _really_, _**really**_ had to learn how to keep myself out of trouble.

&&&&&&

A few minutes later, the door creaked open.

I lifted my head, blinking when I spotted the more gracious of the two. Beckett. Myles was probably in another room, watching our conversation. Artemis might have convinced Beckett to go instead, because he knew how much of an asshole Myles could be.

_Note to self: Give Artemis lollipops when you get the chance._

I could thank him, but that didn't mean I couldn't thank him in a way he would dislike at the same time as appreciate.

"So, uh, Mary?" Beckett rubbed the back of his neck when he said my name, sitting across from me at the stool placed on the other side of this dreary, creepy room. My bed was plain, they could have put prison bars around me if they felt mean, and the door was locked. It could be locked from the outside, too, which really sucked.

"What?" I returned, looking at the boy through brown eyes that looked even more dead with the way my mood was crushed right now.

"Really sorry about Myles. He can be a total ass."

The speakers located in a far corner of the room, near the ceiling, crackled. "Beckett, stop with your tomfoolery and _do_ tell our victim what we have both decided," Myles said through the microphone, before it squealed and died.

I almost grinned, and looked at the speaker with a small frown.

"Oh, but Myles, my friend, you cannot deny what is so rightfully true," I stated, a small smirk on his face, and the look on Beckett's face as I said that showed complete and total empathy. It appears like he was scared for me or something, which was actually really cute when you thought about it. Beckett would be way cuter to have a fairy-tale, Mary Sue ending with than two potheads like Artemis or Myles. Beckett was one of the few Fowls to actually have more than one-fourth of a heart.

"You, _Mary_," he put as much sarcasm in those two syllables as he could, "have no say in this. Therefore zip your lips, shut up, and listen."

I never knew adolescent boys could be this mean. Maybe he took it from Artemis. And they said grown-ups were supposed to be role-models! Tsk, tsk.

"You're all talk and no muscle," I stated, and wrapped my arm around Beckett's shoulder, pulling him so that our cheeks touched.

"I betcha twenty bucks that Beckett here can kick your ass!" I exclaimed, grinning cheekily, not quite noticing the squirming the younger of the twin boys was doing. I knew my ass was _so_ going to be roasted over an open fire when Myles would get his hands on me, but the chance of insulting him seemed **so** hard to ignore. He thought he was all perfect? The next time he ever thought of that, I would be drilling something into his skull.

The speakers rasped again.

"Miss Sanders," Myles stated, and I could almost hear the distasteful frown on his face. Ha, in your face, mister I-think-I-can-do-everything, I just kicked your ass verbally. And they said college was necessary!

"Do prevent yourself from doing anything stupid," he started, and, using my amazing imagination, I pictured him rubbing his temples and squeezing his coffee cup, that is, if rich, pompous bastards drank coffee.

I looked at Beckett, with a silent plea that he would approve of my behavior, and surprisingly, he looked at me with a slightly shy grin. The kid was awesome, gotta say that. Shy, sure, but still, he wanted to go against this Myles guy as much as I did.

"I'll prevent myself the day pigs fly!" I exclaimed, silently starting a war between me and the soon-to-be Artemis Junior.

God, if I had to spend the rest of my life here, I don't know what I'd do –

"Miss Sanders," Myles said, gritting his teeth only slightly through the speakers; and Beckett blinked twice in slight confusion.

"In the name of all that is sane.." he paused, and I looked at the speakers with a mixed look of hope and fear. If they say yes, I would be happy, sure, but scared that I would end up being a slave or something – and you could tell, that wouldn't be very nice if your master was Myles Fowl. _Shit, shit, shit._

Then again, if he said no, then I'd be kicked out, and probably be a hobo on the streets begging for money by dancing. _Double shit, double shit, double shit._

".. you're staying. But, not because I feel pity for you."

And at this, I winced inwardly. Great. I brought myself into some deep shit, didn't I? Beckett pat my back in slight reassurance. At least someone in this rotten household cared, right?

"However, because you have started a war."

This time I could picture the guy smirking, hands folded; his body hunched over in front of the microphone.

"And I, will win it."

This was just peachy.

My Mary Sue ended up into Hairy Poo.

I was definitely in trouble now.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes: **Yay, someone's a loyal reader! –happy-

Well, here's the next chapter you've all been.. waiting for..?

Hooray!

By the way, I am only a twelve-year old freshman in high school. If anything here does not mix with the fourth-year curriculum, PLEASE TELL ME. Thank you very much.

**Disclaimer: Not mine. But I'm prepared to go into a catfight with Eoin Colfer if I have to.**

&&&&&&

_**Punkartgurl13: **_Aw, really? I thought it was rather corny. –sheepish grin- This chapter is dedicated to you and your dollar-correcting amazingness. :D Oh, and I know Myles is mean. But that's what makes it so _fun_ to write about him! Sorry about the Artemis thing. I haven't read the whole series, so I didn't want to lie about anything. I honestly spoiled myself. I am not worthy enough to meet kind-Artemis.

&&&&&&

"_Oh the laundry needs, the laundry needs_

_To be done, and nobody's working!_

_And so he says, and so he says_

_Wash – I don't care if your back's hurting!"_

_-A Reona-chan Poem-_

&&&&&&

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and –

- I was doing some laundry.

Now, you would think that rich bastards like these Fowl boys would have a washing machine of their own, right? Well, yeah, don't get me wrong, they do, but they like making their slaves go through a whole lot of crap before treating them normally (think Artemis and Butler's relationship, I guess).

I was in stage one: _Work your slave's ass off._

Beckett, being the non-genius and non-evil person in the family, had only wanted me to help him with his Math homework. _But_ (in this situation, could I spell it as 'butt' instead?), Myles had arrived from 'work' (or, maybe his lady for the day – I could tell he was a pimp from his overly-inflated ego) when Beckett asked me, and had taken the opportunity to do none other than piss me off.

&&&&&&

"Mary, can you help me with my homework?" Beckett asked, approaching me with a notebook in hand and a pencil. He blinked slowly, and I looked up from my cheesy romance novel of the week, staring at him. Beckett almost grinned sheepishly, and shoved the notebook in my face.

"It's not as easy as you think."

Raising an eyebrow, I looked at the notebook and kept the lollipop in my mouth (just to spite Artemis when he would walk in), reading over the equation.

_x_ plus _y_ is equal to twelve, equation number one.

_3x_ is equal to _4x_, equation number two.

I shrugged, taking his pencil and looking over the problem, over and over again. _**Yeah, pretend you actually understand it, girlie. You barely even know what topic he's taking up, do you? **_I frowned at the voice, and tried to push it away. I didn't go to college, but I sure as _hell_ didn't graduate high school with nothing crammed into (my once-empty) head.

"Beckett.. why're you taking basic Math? Shouldn't you be taking college?" I asked, looking at the boy, who was not even that much older than I was. Beckett smiled a little shyly, rubbing the back of his neck, again. _Note to self: Tell Beckett that it is not a good hobby. You'll never know when you'd have dandruff, and bam, the flakes fall._

"I failed fourth year, didn't get to give all my requirements."

_Damn, he really is different._

_**Ironic that he's twins with that Myles guy.**_

_Yeah._

_**But you do know you still like them, right?**_

_Beckett? Sure. Myles? I'd rather go die._

_**First stage – DENIAL!**_

Once more pushing the voice to the back of my mind, I sighed.

"Alright, so first you gotta – "

"Mary, do stop poisoning my brother's mind with your incessant babbling, and come here."

There was no mistaking that evil voice of _doom_! It was like, hearing a dying cat over and over again on loop whenever that manic kid talked! I mean, God, couldn't he torture someone else? Like his mom or something?

"What now, _Master_?" That last word was dripping with sarcasm. I was so proud of myself right now, I had to convince myself not to grin like an idiot. Teeth showing and all. Myles, seeming the least bit disconcerted, held up one of those.. washing thingies you only see in old movies where the women move their clothes on with such strength that you think they'd actually kill the thing, which would make sense if clothes were cannibals. But they weren't, which was too bad.

"You, will do the laundry, Mary."

At that moment, the most evil grin I've ever seen in my entire life appeared on his face, and I would have beaten him up if he weren't the guy who currently kept my head under a roof.

God, it was hard to resist doing it, really.

&&&&&&

"I."

_Brush._

"Hate."

_Brush._

"Myles."

_Brush._

"Fowl!"

_Brushbrushbrush._

Apparently, I was taking my anger on my laundry doing, which might not be very good; if the Fowl boys didn't like seeing rips in their shirts and pants. Though, I wouldn't mind the pants thing very much. It would be funny seeing Myles walk around with a hole in his pants, right where his butt was.

I would have laughed if I wasn't supposed to be suffering.

"Sorry about all this," Beckett said, out of nowhere; appearing from the back door of the kitchen (where I entered, because I looked 'too poor' to exit the front – **stupid Myles**), with his arms crossed over his chest. He got these pretty blue eyes that sparkled really nicely when the sun glinted, but they were usually covered by his awfully long bangs. He did not take regular haircuts, I supposed; but at least it wasn't as.. fixed as Myles's was. I mean, COME ON, you don't need gel on your bangs, do you? Or is there some new teen-style I'm not aware of yet?

"Nah, it's alright. Your brother's a jerk. I don't blame you," I mumbled, obviously lying through my teeth. I forgot when I became such a good liar (actress, most preferably, but I don't act for free). Maybe it happened when I found out that Justin (that really cute guy in History class who sat across from me and had the nice-smelling hair) was shot in the arm. Kids these days – right to hold weaponry was stupid. Do their moms know they have guns?

Well, they should, because I bet Myles had around thirty-two on his person.

Beckett grinned, and nodded; placing his hands in his pockets and tilting his head slightly as he looked at me. "Man, it's been a long time since we last saw you, you know?" he said, and scratched the back of his head a little sheepishly. I would've gone all, 'aww', or 'yeah, I know. I missed you too', if I actually knew what he was talking about. Which I didn't. Because I was just-freaking-amazing like that.

".. Uh, yeah, sure."

When I said that, Beckett blinked twice and peered at my face curiously.

_Oh, God,_ I thought to myself, wincing. _He's one of those guys who search your face for pimples and then rub it in your face that you're going through puberty._

"Are you okay, Marie – er, I mean, Mary. That's a new nickname, isn't it?" he asked, and I blinked slowly, and nodded. "Er, sure, I'm okay, besides the fact your brother's making me do the laundry when he could work his own pretty little fingers off," I replied swiftly, continuing to destroy – um, clean the fabric in my hands.

Beckett grinned, and scratched his cheek, sitting on this.. squarish.. thingy.

"You sure? I mean, you don't remember anything, do you, Marie?"

"I can't remember anything I never experienced, buddy," I said, looking at the shirt in the light and then putting it into the 'washed clothes' basket, for hanging later. _(Insert curse word of choice here), _I thought to myself, wincing inwardly, _I'm starting to get responsible. Darn you, mother!_

I saw Beckett about to open his mouth, before Myles appeared (I don't know whether I should be glad or not, since there were two possibilities – a) he's allow me to go inside, or b) he'd make it worse. It was most likely the latter), in all his egotistical, pompous glory.

"Brother, do leave Mary and I for a few moments," and Myles put on his best smile, which would have made me melt, if I didn't remind myself that this guy was the devil's incarnate. Or worse, my mother's incarnate. I shot a look at Beckett as if to say, _Don't leave me alone!_

But Beckett only directed a sad glance at me, and hopped off of where he sat (a sink? I couldn't see very well), and walked in – leaving me and my worst nightmare _alone_.

"You're horrible, you know that?" I asked Myles, frowning and continuing to wash. "Y'think you're so high and almighty, when you're nothing but a kid hiding behind wealth and power," I mumbled, and Myles only chuckled in response. Did he even _have_ a heart? Or was he just not affected? God. This kid needed to learn.

"Have you been keeping the key, Mary?" he asked, out of nowhere, and I blinked. Great. Even more references to my apparent doppelganger, Marie, who I had no idea existed in the first place. I wonder why I resembled her. I didn't have anything in common, right? I mean, well, except the mole which was on the upper left of my lip (sounds familiar? Just like Marilyn Monroe! It was our similarity – though thank God it was our **only** similarity), which was special – and might be the reason they thought I was Marie. But, well, you'll never really know.

I decided to do what I did best with Myles.

Lie through my teeth.

"Of course, Myles," I said, and found myself wondering why I couldn't lie to Beckett, but could to this guy. Must be their personalities. _**Favoritism, maybe**_, my horrible, horrible conscience told me.

_Whatever._

_**Stop denying it, sweetie.**_

_I'll stop denying it when I gain ten pounds._

_**Oh. That might happen soon.**_

_Fuck. Should've thought that bet through._

Myles showed the closest thing to a smile after that last comment I made to my inner self (which made me wonder if he could read minds or something), and nodded.

"Very well. I have another job for you to do."

He took his work jacket off and his tie, and folded them neatly, putting them on the side (how feminine). He smirked only slightly when he popped one of his buttons off.

My eyes widened. Only slightly.

"Listen up, buddy, if you're going to give me a strip tease, you do know I'm not like most of those whores you take from bars, right?" I said, rolling my eyes. Myles only chuckled, before fully removing his buttons, exposing his chest.

_Damn, is he pale!_

_**Sexy, isn't it?**_

_Leave me alone._

I was about to open my mouth to retort, when a ball of cloth shot me right in the face. My face was burning, I was sure about it (well, Myles _was_ a bit handsome – I couldn't deny that), and Myles smirked evilly.

"Something else to add to your pile of never-ending laundry, sweetheart."

I winced and threw my shoe at him.

That curse word that slipped his mouth was worth seeing him strip.

&&&&&&

**Author's Notes: **It's done, hallelujah. Next chapter might not come as quickly – I have exams next week, which sucks heavily. My computer-usage won't be much, if at all. PLUS, I have other things to update, so PLEASE forgive me. I hope this was worth the wait.. I only hope.

See you guys later, in the next chapter.

Feel free to add my Yahoo! Messenger ID if you wish. It's lana101296, if anyone's interested. I might give you teasers to the next chapters, if you're lucky enough. And you might give me a brilliant idea to use here (with credit, of course).

Again, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed the third chapter of 'Shameless'.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes: **I am truly grateful to my reviewers. I have just finished my term exams and currently high on satisfaction. Do forgive me if this seems a little.. strange.

This is the Myles/OFC (still no name) part of the fanfiction. Beckett/OFC will be coming soon.

I might include one of my reviewers in the fanfiction. Just in case, do drop off the name you want to go as, personality, looks, quirks, etc. I'm feeling good today.

**Disclaimer: Nope.**

**WARNING: Pale, pubescent male stripping ahead. You have been warned.**

&&&&&&

_**Punkartgurl13: **_Nah, it doesn't. But I'ma freshman, and proud. YES, I HATED WRITING ABOUT MYLES STRIPPING. It is not enjoyable to see slender, pale, sexy boys take their shirts off. –grin-

_**SioPao-chan: **_Aw, really? Hehe. This isn't really a self-insert, but the character's based off of me heavily. –cough- Thank you for the compliment, and I'm glad my story interested you!

&&&&&&

"_She figures out their intentions_

_Her heart just keeps on beating_

_But will they really do it?_

_Oh, fuck, her face is heating."_

_-A Reona-chan Poem-_

&&&&&&

You walk up to a person in the hospital, sitting calmly near the emergency room. You ask them what the hell they're doing here, and they tell you they're waiting – but they aren't twisting their engagement/marriage ring or anything, nor are they looking like something's shoved deep up their ass.

No, you see them sitting there with a stupid smile on their face.

And you go, _"Damn, that chick's patient."_

I am not a patient person. I have _never_ been a patient person. I don't even _like_ patient people as a personal rule of mine.

Now Myles was making me wait, and I was dying.

Why, you ask? The throwing of shoes to his head did not seem very appealing to him. He decided that he would talk to me or something, and see me in his 'quarters' (which was actually reminding me all too much of a prison cell).

What the hell did that monk dude see in a cell that made him think of human cells?

He must've been high or something.

So I waited, yeah, for just a little while, just standing there in the room, thinking and trying to tell myself not to do anything extremely stupid, anything to get myself in a worse mess than I already was. But like Alice said when she fell down that rabbit hole (which, in my opinion, was really stupid), I often give myself very good advice, but I seldom ever follow it.

Ergo (one-point vocabulary word), after only a few minutes of waiting patiently, I found myself going through the good (hint the sarcasm) genius's belongings, looking for nothing in particular. Anything, to take my mind off of the fact that he (and Beckett) obviously thought I was someone else, someone important, who he needed and couldn't be allowed to be kicked out of this house. Not wanting to think that instead I was indeed a stranger and most likely unimportant, and sure to be of little to no use to him. Not wanting to admit to myself that there might be no getting out of this one (which, personally, sucked).

I took my locket out from my shoe (I actually brought one around, sorry to say I never mentioned it before – but right now it was digging into my ankle and reminding me all too much of when Holly found her acorn and went, 'aha!'), and stared at it. Heart-shaped. Now I would never get to fill that locket with a beautiful picture of me and my over-sized mother who eats jelly doughnuts on her belly. Here I was, in a manor where I most likely would die in, and I think about wasted moments with my stupid locket.

Wow, I'm a genius.

I slipped the locket around my neck and continued with my shenanigans.

There was a desk against the far wall, and the first drawer in it was filled with a variety of useless objects: a few pens with the Fowl name engraved that didn't have any ink, various trinkets which most likely had sentimental value (though I threw them over my shoulder like I didn't care – oops) and trash (he has trash in here?), and most importantly some scraps of paper which were all crumpled up. The next drawer, however, was marked "Emergency Use" and was filled with stress balls. The last drawer was empty except for a small knife and one more crumpled piece of paper.

I felt like Sherlock Holmes right now, and not even Myles's naturally bastardly personality could keep me from reading it. I pulled the paper out of the drawer and smoothed it out so I could read it. In perfect calligraphy, read the words:

_**The way to the treasure is through her heart.**_

What the fuck was that? Some corny love poem?

I felt my head shoot up when the sound of footsteps rang through my head, and I quickly stuffed the paper back in the drawer. I was sitting on the bed, my heart (amazingly) trembling and my hands sweating in (surprise, surprise!) _fear_, when the boy walked through the door to his room.

He walked in, taking the time to pull off his sunglasses and throw it on the desk, promptly ignoring me at the moment his hands move to take his jacket off as well. Now, this was all very nostalgic, but I sat there as he pulled it off, waiting for him to say something to me, _anything_, not quite wanting to speak out and draw unnecessary attention to myself that might get me kicked out. He didn't speak. My heart began to pound threateningly somewhere near my throat as his hands moved to the buttons on his white shirt and I finally opened my mouth to try to speak.

"'scuse me," I started, but it came out as a croak. He was now kicking his shoes off while finish off with the buttons. "Erm…" I tried again, as one shoe was (uncharacteristically – now I knew he was spiting me) flung across the room and banged against the wall. But then I saw it, when he tried to pull the boot off, just a flash of his face. He was smiling! He was trying to make me fucking uncomfortable! I stood quickly, my face blazing.

"Hey Demi Moore, save the striptease for someone who cares!"

Well, honestly (and I'm not very honest), that didn't make any sense; I wasn't even sure why I'd said it (probably because I've gotten used to blowing insults at him that I can barely remain normal around him). Nevertheless, it got his attention. He turned to me, feigning ignorance so well I almost fell for it.

"Oh, hello sweetheart, forgot you were there," he said, smiling widely. I looked at him, my mouth gaping, my mouth opening and closing like one of those fish I accidentally stepped on in my freshman year. The class fish. I think his name was Skippy. Mentally slapping myself, I found the ability to speak again.

"You are so full of shit, straight up to your eyeballs!" I snarled, pointing; realizing it was something my potty-mouth of a dad would have said. Myles's smile only turned into a smirk.

"I wonder why my eyes are blue, then." Now his smirk faded only a little, forming into a kind of smile you wouldn't normally see on a teenage boy's face, one that made me extremely uncomfortable. His other shoe fell from his hand and landed with a loud thud that echoed in the extreme quiet. I shifted backwards, my knees hitting the bed.

"But you mustn't really be talking about liars and the such, Miss Sanders."

There was a dangerous, dangerous undertone to what he said, and I looked at him, unsure of what I was supposed to say (1938128472395 of the things I thought of saying were insults, but that wouldn't really work). Finally I lifted my head defiantly; staring at him right in the eye (his sparkly blue ones were nothing in comparison to my lame, dull brown). So I was a bad liar, I knew that, but I also knew that the only way I was ever going to make out of this stupid thing alive was for him to continue to think I was whoever he had originally thought. The only way I could do that without really knowing who I was supposed to be acting like was to be defiant, to pretend like I had something to hide. I sat on the bed calmly.

"So maybe I'm a liar and a hippo.. crate.. hypothermia.. hypocrite, then!" I retorted, and forced myself to smile calmly. Now, eerily, he looked awfully pleased with himself.

"Really, now… then I do suppose you're in the right manor," he said with a small, airy chuckle, turning away, going back to the business of taking his shirt off. "We shall be setting off soon. Butler may have some clothes for you that Juliet used to own." He looked at me for a moment, glancing at my shirt and realizing it was indeed wet. "As much as I enjoy seeing through the fabric in your shirt, we can't be letting the crew we will soon be with to think our lovely cook is a whore, can we?"

I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster, and really, it wasn't that hard. Myles caught my glare and smiled as he moved to pull on a cleaner shirt, opening his arms in welcome and exposing his chest to me in between the spaces he hadn't buttoned yet (much to my pleasure, and dismay).

"Welcome to the Fowl Manor, Mary," he said with almost a cheerful tone which was almost mocking (and it probably was), and reached for the stress-ball drawer. He stopped when he noticed the bottom drawer slightly ajar, looking up at me without surprise. I shifted on the bed, feeling my pulse race.

That thing on that paper.. was it metaphorical?

_Or would Myles be gruesome enough to actually cut my heart out?_

&&&&&&

**Author's Notes: **Yay, so we're seeing a little bit of plot here. Myles-OFC interaction is the best, don't you think? Methinks Beckett-OFC interaction will be fluffy. But, meh. Hope you enjoyed.

Drop a review, please?


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes: **It is with pride and honor that I present to you the fifth chapter of Shameless. I am extremely sorry to all my loyal readers (so far only two have made their presence) who have been waiting for this – the Holidays seemed to be taking up much of my time.

**Disclaimer: Artemis Fowl is not mine, yadda yadda. Can I stop putting this up mommy? Plz?**

&&&&&&

_**SioPao-chan: **_Astig na bata? Haha, salamat talaga po. Mahirap po talaga mag-isip ng mga _events_ para sa ito. Sana naman kukuha yung Newberry Award naman. Yung muna ang gusto ko. :D

LOL, HE'S NOT EMO. It just… popped out of my head. Mary is the pseudonym of the person whose point of view this is written in. :P She is constantly mistaken for someone else. Artemis will indeed appear again. He's a side character here, along with Butler, though, so he doesn't appear as much as most fangirls wish. Ehehehe.

_**Punkartgurl13: **_I feel so loved seeing your reviews on all my chapters. Anyway, yes, HE SAID **WHORE**. I would have mellowed it out… but it seemed _so_ amusing I _couldn't_ resist it. I'll use preposterous one of these days, promise! Haha! I've inserted you in this chapter. Squint.

Myles is a male stripper. I must deal with it.

Oh, your reviews have encouraged me these past few… months.

_**Jello1029: **_Yes, Myles Fowl is extremely sexy. Let's wait for the Beckett moments, shall we? One of the best? Oh, my, I feel so flattered. Haha. This was just the result of me having energy drinks in my system and wanting Myles & Beckett to be popular. Thanks for the compliment. I need the encouragement to keep typing.

_**To all my reviewers: **_It is your encouragement that made me make such a _looong_ chapter! Be happy!

&&&&&&

"_When all else fails – you know the bar's waiting."_

_-A Reona-chan & Friends Saying-_

&&&&&&

Nothing too exciting occurred during the time we set off on our little expedition (which Myles keeps telling me has something to do with my identity – what the fuck?). Myles was the same egotistical bastard, even at sea, Beckett was shy (and unbelievably adorable), and Artemis kept throwing a mop at me, which I avoided on purpose. Butler, however, watched with a shaking head and a disapproving look. At least _one_ person was on _my _side (Beckett wasn't counted – I don't think he **has** a side).

At the moment, I was looking down at the clothes I was now wearing, giving out a small sigh as I took in the baggy pants and white shirt. They didn't fit very well at all, and I was completely sure with myself that they weren't exactly clean either, but hat wasn't what concerned me. If the time I've spent with the Fowls had taught me anything, it was that none of this was going to go like one of those fanfiction romances. I would not be sweeping Artemis Fowl, Myles Fowl or Becket Fowl off his feet, and I was really not sure I wanted to sweep off the first two. Running my hands through my hair, I lamented being stuck on a boat (_ship_, as the enthusiastic antique-collecting Beckett kept reminding me) with no shampoo, and more importantly, **no hairspray**.

Not that I'm high maintenance or –

- okay, so I'm a little freakin' high maintenance when it comes to my hair. Cut me a damn break.

I was suddenly whisked into some evil Fowl boy scheme, anyway; it was better to worry about something useless than something that would risk your life.

Outside the door of the small cabin I was left in as a detention room (I had spit in Myles's face and had kicked Artemis in the shin this morning – not a very good thing to do), I could hear the crew cheering at something retarded and I moved toward the door quickly to see what it could be. Opening it, I gasped as I came face to face with a mumbling Beckett, a satisfied Artemis, and a clearly smiling Myles.

"Hello, love!" Myles exclaimed, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and causing me to roll my eyes. I frowned and wrenched his arm away. Freak kept making personality switches. Pissed me like hell.

"What did you _do_ to make them so happy?" I asked, frown still on my face (he won't ask if you frown).

It is Artemis, however, who answers, and he looks up at the ceiling with some sort of absent-minded look. "We'll be heading into the nearest town, now," he murmured. Beckett, then, seems to take interest in the conversation and gawks at my outfit.

"You look like a pirate, Mary!" he exclaimed, eyes wide before Artemis 'shush'es him and makes him keep quiet.

I snorted. I actually did. I was sorely tempted to tell Beckett that I had never even had a speeding ticket in my life, let alone pillaged or plundered on the high seas. The only thing that stopped me was knowing that the reference would be completely lost on him (like everything else – which was cute).

Myles looked down at me for a long moment and finally my gaze followed his. He was staring at my locket... well, my locket or my breasts. I couldn't quite be sure. Blushing, I tucked the locket underneath my shirt and buttoned every button except for the top one. There, now _both_ were hidden. I gave him a triumphant look.

He smiled up at me, teeth gleaming.

"I wasn't looking at your locket, Mary," he said conversationally, enjoying my blush. And before I could say anything (what could I say to that!), Myles was walking away to join his men on the main deck (to gossip?), leaving me to follow. Artemis and Beckett seemed to have something else to do, so they left as well. And thus, I did go, grumbling and cursing the whole way. The newness of all of this was starting to wear off and I was feeling more than a little bitchy.

These Fowl boys didn't know what they were in for.

&&&&&&

I had been in a bar before, but never one like this one. In fact, I was pretty sure that up until this moment, I had thought bars like this didn't even really exist. Of course now, up until that morning I had also thought it was impossible to get sucked through the time and space continuum into a fictional book, so today did seem to be my day for standing corrected.

The second we walked through the door, everyone looked up. Men seemed frozen with their drinks in mid-air, women stopped giggling and looked at us with wide eyes, and even two men engaged in a fight stopped momentarily as the identity of minors leading full-blooded crewmen walked in. Myles smiled and everything returned to normal, except for the women who were now cooing like pigeons and making their way over in droves. The man behind the bar was asking us what we wanted as Myles prepared to sit and every seat around him filled with whores. No wonder he had such a big ego! I turned to the older man.

"What have you got?" I asked.

"Beer," he barked, pushing drinks over to two men on my left. I waited for him to continue but he didn't.

"Cosmopolitan?" I asked sarcastically, pretending to think it over. "Bay Breeze? Scotch and Coke?" He looked at me like I was mad and I thought he may be right.

"Beer it is then!" I called, with mock cheerfulness. He slid a dirty mug over to me and I gave him a sarcastic grin, tipping my glass to him.

"Service with a smile," I said, not even caring that he was ignoring me. "Just the way I like it."

Taking my glass, I stopped to take a sip before walking back to Artemis, Myles, Beckett and the others. Wonderful. It went down like battery acid and tasted like piss. Yuuuuummmmmy.

Beckett smiled when I approached, looking up from the table full of ladies who were enraptured with his brother's every word. It seemed all the other crewmates, even Juliet (Butler would not leave his master's side – though I barely noticed he was there), had been wise enough to go off on their own and find things to do. Everyone except for me.

"Ah... Miss Sanders. Ladies, this is Miss Mary Sanders. She's from England, as it were," Myles started, making Artemis wonder what he did to make his brother such a ladies' man. I grinned inwardly when a picture of Artemis telling Myles how to look pretty popped up into my head.

The girls didn't even look up at me and I couldn't have cared less. Instead I took another drink of the beer and grimaced, feeling it still burn. I knew if I drank enough of it then eventually the nasty taste would go away.

"That's right," I said conversationally, pulling over a chair and wedging it between Myles and a redhead. I'm not usually so bold in real life but beer and time travel had done wonders for my nerves. "Chip-chip-cheerio, jolly good, and all that shite."

The redhead looked like she might kill me when I sat down and Myles looked pleased. I took another large drink of my rum (it was getting slightly better with each one) and watched as the redhead left her chair to perch herself on his lap. She raised her eyebrow as if to say, 'Well, how about that?' I promptly raised my middle finger and sat on Beckett's lap as if to say... well, no need to explain what I meant by that, now is there?

Feeling bored with the stupid girls and the _minor_ who seemed to love every bit of it, I turned slightly in my chair to look around the room. There were all sorts of people here, but I could tell that most or all of them were lowlife scum. The men were like most of the crew, dirty and unkempt (though I will admit, far less handsome) and the women were all in tight dresses with their hair pulled back, being either barwenches or whores. Juliet and I were the only two women wearing pants, and I was the only one left in this room. I slumped down farther in my chair and tried to keep my head down so no one would notice me. Something told me that this was the kind of place where you wouldn't want to stand out.

A few men on my left were having a conversation and I couldn't help leaning a bit to hear it (what? I wanted to feel like some agent from Mission Impossible for once!).

"So, they can't find her then?" One man said to the other. I couldn't see him but his voice was gruff, deep.

"She left before they got there and left nary a sign where she was going." The second man's voice was not as deep but was every bit as rough, as though he were speaking while parched of thirst. "They found that scrap o' paper with that nonsense on it. Ye know, _the way to the treasure be through her heart_ or summin' like that."

My heart froze and I had to fight to remain nonchalant. I had held that paper in my hands. I had found it in...

"When the old man wouldn't explain, they slit his throat in his bed and left looking for the lass."

I looked to Myles who currently had two girls nuzzled into his chest, one under each arm. Could he have done that? He _was_ an evil genius but...

I took a large gulp of my beer, considered, then finished it off. Well, this was just wonderful. It was either be on board with a strange, potential murderer or in a town full of strange, definite murderers. My options were getting better all the time.

"More beer!" I shouted to the bartender. The girls laughed as I nearly fell over trying to get up. "Make it two," I said, gritting my teeth. Getting shit-faced might not really help things, but it would make me forget for at least a little while.

&&&&&&

"You know what your problem is," I said to Myles, pointing to him, Beckett and Artemis's lips quirking up into a small smile. It wasn't really a question.

"I don't have a problem," he slurred, smiling. One of the girls was tugging on his arm, trying to get him to go off alone with her. It was safe to say that Myles and I were fairly smashed (Beckett may not look it, but he is _smart_ – he didn't touch a drink at all, so did Artemis).

"Your problem," I continued, ignoring him, "is that you are a man. Even if you do walk like a woman." I finished another drink and tried to count the cups to see how many I'd had but the math made my head hurt. Diagonally from me, Myles tilted back to put his feet on the table and would have crashed to the floor if it hadn't been for the women fretting over his every move.

"I do not walk like a woman. I am all man, understand?" He gave me a perverse grin and I nodded mockingly.

"Right Myles. You are a buffet of manliness." I gestured nonchalantly to his face. "By the way, your hair's not maintained."

His hand came halfway up to the top of his head before he stopped it but that was enough. I was sent immediately into peals of giggles that not even the suddenly intense look I was getting from Artemis as a warning could stop. When I finally had gained control of myself, I continued.

"The problem with men is that they're all liars. They say 'we want strong, smart women. We want someone to keep us on our toes.' But in the end it's always like this." I gestured at the girls. "You all truly want stupid women, who won't argue with you, who will laugh at your dumb jokes and be submissive and make you feel better about yourself. Even you Myles Fowl. Even you."

Beckett clapped his hands and patted me on the back. "Awesome show, Mary," he said, and I felt myself blush a little. Artemis would have grinned if he weren't so apathetic. He cradled his chin with his hand and watched me with appeal.

There was a fire in Myles's eyes now, even though he was still smiling. The girls looked like they weren't sure if I was trying to offend them or steal their man. A slightly more sober version of me would have realized it was time to stop. As it was, I went on.

"You know what you need Myles Fowl? I'll tell you what you need. You need a real woman. A woman who won't take all of your crap. A woman who'll tell you how it is and to hell with ya if you don't like it. A woman who..."

"Tell me," Myles interrupted, and now he didn't look quite so drunk. I wondered if I had been tricked somehow. "Did you have someone in mind?"

I shifted in my chair under his gaze, _that_ gaze, and now the whores did look nervous. I went to take a drink of my rum only to find it empty.

"I am not nearly drunk enough to answer that question," I told him, trying to appear haughty. He smiled and slapped the table, calling loudly, "More beer!" A few voices nearby laughed and I sighed as the tensions eased.

So I drank another glass of rum, this one more slowly, as I sat at the table with my head propped up in my hand, feeling like it might fall off and roll on the floor if I didn't hold it up. I drifted for a while, seeing people go by, hearing their noisy shouts and laughter but feeling separated from it still all the same. I was drunker than I had ever been before and I didn't really like it (I told you once – I am a lightweight).

I opened my eyes some while later to see Myles standing with the redhead who was busy nipping at his ear.

"I'll be needing two rooms, mate," Myles called cheerfully. I raised my head and looked at him and he once more turned his grin on me. "Will ye be bunking with us, love? There's plenty o' genius to go around!" he said, giving me a look and gesturing at the redhead. I gave him back a look that spoke of anger and intense violence, hoping that look could convey everything I was feeling at that moment, every bitter fear and bit of anger at being stuck between murdering geniuses with no way home. He spun back to the man behind the bar, trinkets jingling. The vision made my head spin along with him.

"Three. Three rooms, mate."

The bartender slid the keys across the bar and Myles slid some coins back to him. Sighing, I laid my head down among the empty glasses and closed my eyes, thinking how sad it was that this was the second time in two days that I was falling asleep drunk off my ass. I didn't even notice when Beckett and Artemis moved to help me up.

And that was the last thought I had for a little while.


End file.
